


The unspoken language

by Nelzi91



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Drabble, F/M, Short One Shot, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelzi91/pseuds/Nelzi91
Summary: Just a drabble for now.AU. Bulma was a slave on Planet Vegeta. Now she's a concubine.Implied Non-con.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	The unspoken language

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just something that suddenly came to me. It's a one-shot for now, but may turn into something later on when I can build more plot around it. Or maybe it will turn into a PWP, who knows - the potential is there.
> 
> Hit me up in the comments below if you like it, or if you find some errors in my writing. Not picky.

He looked at his woman, standing stoically at his side. So Saiyan-like, but for the teal tresses falling in soft curls to rest above her breasts. Draped in the navy silks that flowed over her figure like a waterfall in the night. She was dressed in the traditional garb indicating her status: royal concubine. The dress was loose, but for the red sash that tied below her breasts, the low V of the neckline emphasizing the ripe swell of her tits. That was not the only thing the sash emphasized, he noted as his eyes followed the line of her curves down to slight roundness of her stomach.

He scoffed at the reminder, inwardly berating the stubborn wench for her decision to carry full term instead of utilizing the birthing pods. Her ‘delicate’ state was causing problems in their bedroom.

His perusal of her continued as he marked the other signs that indicated to everyone on deck that she was his. The gold band encircling her right bicep embedded with a cabochon moonstone only found on his home planet. The markings inked into her wrist displaying his house crest and lineage. The red-gem teardrop pendant that nestled invitingly between her cleavage, and finally he looked at her face, that unblemished porcelain-pale skin that held just a hint of rouge on her cheekbones and nose. Her face was definitely fuller than when they’d first met years ago. Such a skinny little thing she had been, laid out before him like an offering, fresh and untouched. Beautiful even then, but that’s not what caught and kept his attention for the days following that night. It was the defiance he saw sparkling in that sapphire bright eyes, proudly displayed despite her aroused state – courtesy of an aphrodisiac administered beforehand. It was a look he was intimately familiar with. A look he himself bore for years on end when prostrated before his former lord and master, Freeza – may he rot in hell. It was a look that screamed _I may be your slave, but I will never fully submit to you._

He had smirked cockily at that, and watched her jaw tense in barely suppressed rage, all the while the mother of the Imperial harem droned on about female pleasure and how to achieve it. Oh yes, she was indeed a sight to behold, proud and bold.

A good diet, rest and baring the prince’s son had filled out her body quite pleasantly, he thought with a satisfied smirk. He wanted to nuzzle into her nape, but restrained himself since they were currently in public, public being defined as the bridge of his flagship, staring out the little blue planet that his female had once called home.

Her brow furrowed worriedly as the time ticked by with no answer on the other side of the screen of her communication tablet. She was just sliding her finger to the red disconnect icon when the screen lit up, and a rumpled looking old man appeared on the other end.

“Daddy” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

The man squinted for a moment, then the haggard look vanished in an instant and like magic he suddenly looked decades younger.

“Bulma? My dear is that you?”

“…It’s me, Dad” her voice was wobbling now, and Vegeta did not have to look at her face to know that her eyes were tear bright. This has been the norm ever since she got over the puking every day-part of her pregnancy.

“Oh my goodness, darling where have you been?” he shouted.

Bulma sighed. “It’s a long… long story dad, but uhm, I’m currently in orbit. I’ll be down soon. I just want to let you know that something is about to happen. You’re going to get a lot of questions, but just go with it okay?”

“What? What’s about to happen?”

“Just… keep the TV on. You’ll find out soon enough. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll see you soon, Dad. Love you.”

Then she disconnected.

“Okay,” she said, turning to him. “We’re ready. You will be able to broadcast in 5 minutes.” He nodded by way of acknowledgement, and was about to depart when her hand caught his wrist. He looked up at her face again, and in her eyes so similar in shade to the little blue planet below them he saw a wealth of emotions. Her eyes, to him had always been so easy to read. She dragged his hand up to her lips and bit the pad of his thumb. A subtle warning _. I’m trusting you with my planet_ , her eyes seemed to say. He watched as she withdrew his finger from her plump pink mouth and squashed the urge to repay that little nip in kind, and then some.

“It will be as we discussed woman.” He answered the warning in her eyes, then turned away and walked to where the recording would be made.


End file.
